


Pussy Quest

by neutralize



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Play, Crossdressing, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Gags, Hand & Finger Kink, Hand Jobs, High Heels, Humor, Kuroo gets wrecked, M/M, Masks, Panties, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Roleplay, Sexual Experimentation, Sexual Humor, Sexual Roleplay, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 13:38:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12389178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neutralize/pseuds/neutralize
Summary: Tetsurou feels like he’s a living sliding scale of increased situational weirdness. On the lower end of the spectrum: the t-shirt tied around his mouth as a makeshift gag and the collar he’s wearing. Higher up, the endless looping of some way-too-familiar video game soundtrack coming from Kenma’s Bluetooth speakers.Kenma himself is hard to decide on: wearing a negligee, panties and kitten heels is ultimately ruled as ‘not disturbing’, although something Tetsurou could have easily gone the rest of his life without seeing.The cat mask, however, is giving him serious pause.Or: Kuroo looks into the abyss, and the abyss ends up fucking him back.





	Pussy Quest

**Author's Note:**

> I missed it by an hour, but happy belated birthday to my favorite Nekoma cryptid and his stupid boyfriend.
> 
> Best read when listening to [this awful number](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Pgl-JC2sgk).
> 
> Huge thank you to my darling [Nata](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Skylark) for the much needed beta read, as well as my irl besties Lady and Sats for helping me come up with bad, video game parody hentai titles. Warnings for brief misogynistic language and deliberately bad roleplay.
> 
> Rest in fucking pieces, ~~Hanako-chan~~ Kuroo.

Kuroo Tetsurou, by all accounts, has it good – life treats him well as a student, volleyball captain, and overall epitome of good looks and smooth talking. Kenma, really, is just icing on the cake; the Nekoma volleyball club shares a unanimous camaraderie with Kenma, but at the end of the day, it’s Tetsurou who gets to spend alone time with him outside high school sports.

Tetsurou feels that dicking around is an integral part of their friendship, so when he casually brings up the idea of experimenting and Kenma not only agrees but also suggests adding roleplay to the mix, it’s a good day. Though, if he’s honest, he wishes he’d been the one to set the tone for their first time: roleplaying isn’t really his cup of tea, and he’s not into video games and nerd lore to the extent Kenma is.

But it’s _Kenma_ – Kenma making the request, Kenma wanting to take initiative for once, and everyone thinks Tetsurou is the leader but he always falls quiet when Kenma speaks. Like most things pertaining to him, he makes the exception for his friend.

\--

He realizes quickly that maybe, in the future, he should have a less cavalier attitude towards Kenma running the show.

In retrospect, it’s a foregone conclusion Kenma plays hentai titles – the dude lives and breathes video games, so it’s not surprising that a few have made their way into Kenma’s impressive gaming repertoire. Underneath the aloof awkwardness, Kenma is still a warm-blooded teenage boy, and Tetsurou has enough experience watching over a whole group of them to know that yeah, a guy’s imagination at this point in his life is usually less than saintly. He can deal with that. What he _does_ take issue with is evidently the only kind of hentai Kenma knows is more suited to the deep, dark corners of the internet.

Tetsurou feels like he’s a living sliding scale of increased situational weirdness. On the lower end of the spectrum: the t-shirt tied around his mouth as a makeshift gag and the collar he’s wearing. Higher up, the endless looping of some way-too-familiar video game soundtrack coming from Kenma’s Bluetooth speakers.

Kenma himself is hard to decide on: wearing a negligee, panties and kitten heels is ultimately ruled as ‘not disturbing’, although something Tetsurou could have easily gone the rest of his life without seeing.

The cat mask, however, is giving him serious pause. Tetsurou can roll with the punches as easy as blocking and breathing, but there’s something downright unholy in the way the mask’s eyes catch the lowlight of Kenma’s desktop that makes him want to rethink this entire idea.

The fact he’s also hard as hell is not helping matters much, but he’s going to have to deal with that later.

“I know you’ve been fucking the vice principal, but I’ll cut you a deal, Hanako-chan,” Kenma whispers, stroking Tetsurou’s cheek with his fingertips. Despite the gag and the lurching of his stomach, the prolonged snort leaves him faster than he can catch it. He quickly forgets what he’s laughing about when Kenma grabs his neck and mashes his head onto the floor.

“Kenma, what the actual _fuck_ ,” Tetsurou half yelps, half snarls through wet cotton. “When you said roleplay – ”

A sharp sensation digs into the nape of his neck. He hisses when Kenma wedges the spike of his heel infinitesimally deeper into the space between his vertebrae. “I won’t give those photos to the school newspaper, if I can fill you with my cum.”

Tetsurou gasps, tingling shockwaves radiating from his shoulders to the small of his back. He pretends the twitch in his hips is coincidental. The pressure lifts from his neck, and he can feel Kenma’s foot roll him onto his back. The desktop bathes Kenma in eerie white light and Tetsurou’s eyes pan up his heels, his slim legs, the lace hem of his negligee, the soft slope of his shoulders – and then there’s the fucking cat mask, staring, unseeing, and Tetsurou is suddenly back where he started.

Horrified realization pangs in his stomach when it dawns on him that, duh, Kenma is waiting for him to say something.

“Uh,” Tetsurou begins unintelligibly, before Kenma yanks hard on the collar and sends him into a spluttering spell. Kenma crouches above him, so low and his feet spread so wide that Tetsurou can see the bulge and wet spots on his panties. Underwear. Whatever. As if on cue, his own dick twitches; Kenma brushes a hand over his temple, his carotid, before drifting down his deltoid. It’s a surprisingly gentle gesture, given the last five minutes have been the exact opposite.

“You really are such a disgusting whore, Hanako-chan,” Kenma says, with a ludicrous amount of fondness in his voice. He’s now sitting on top of Tetsurou, his hand ghosting down his chest. “Well? Are you ready for the fucking of a lifetime?”

There are so many things wrong with that statement – this entire situation, actually – that, for one of the few times in his life, Kuroo Tetsurou has no smartass response. So he decides to go with it, because he’d be lying through his teeth if he said he isn’t curious where Kenma is planning to go with this.

Fuck.

He pulls down the gag as much as he can and starts to reach for the mask, but Kenma swats his hand away. “Don’t get feisty with your senpai,” he says, voice low with warning.

“Can I at least get this off, before you do whatever? It’s distracting,” Tetsurou asks, gesturing to the spit-soaked t-shirt dangling around his neck. Kenma seems to consider this for a moment, before untying it and tossing it to the other side of the room. Tetsurou only has a few seconds to stretch his jaw before Kenma’s hands start roving again, this time dipping below his navel. He bites the inside of his lip and exhales deeply through his nose, soreness constricting his neck. One of Kenma’s hands tilts his head back, and he doesn’t bother to stifle the subsequent groan and string of obscenities when fingernails start to lazily drag downward, slow and deliberate. Tetsurou’s hands clench around Kenma’s sides and he feels a small surge of smug satisfaction when Kenma’s breath hitches – just barely, and it’s muffled by the mask, but it’s there. Kenma’s free hand holds his jaw in place so that Tetsurou is staring head on into… the cat mask again.

“Look at you, enjoying yourself,” Kenma mutters. “You’re shameless, Hanako-chan.”

“You know what,” Tetsurou manages to gasp, trying to match Kenma’s quickening pace by rutting his hips, “if I weren’t enjoying this so much I – _fuck_ – I’d be mad you’re putting more effort into not breaking character than you ever have towards volleyball.”

Tetsurou swears his soul tries to leave his body when Kenma pauses. He watches with rapt fascination as slender fingers – fucking _finally_ – work themselves underneath the mask and Kenma takes it off. Like the t-shirt, the mask is lobbed to some forgotten corner of Kenma’s room. Tetsurou isn’t sure what makes his heart stop first: the way Kenma’s eyes shine, half lidded but bright, even in the dim of the room; the faint hint of a smirk playing at his lips; the soft strands of hair plastered across thin brows; or the way he breathes, “Would you?”

Tetsurou shoves his mouth against Kenma’s before his mind can catch up; Kenma grits out a vague noise of disgust, but doesn’t push him away. Tetsurou’s hands dive between Kenma’s thighs, only for Kenma to smack them away again. A noise that’s half groan, half growl, escapes him, and he sets to stroking himself instead, feeling his abdominal muscles spasm in a way that makes him descend into a single-minded, primal focus. But before he can settle into a decent pace, Kenma seizes his hands again and holds Tetsurou’s eyes with the sheer force of his gaze.

He wordlessly motions for Tetsurou to wait, moving to his desk to paw through its drawers. Several seconds later, Kenma returns with two items in his hands. Tetsurou stares, the feeling of hazy euphoria being replaced with sharp, sobering mortification.

“No way,” Tetsurou tries to deadpan. It comes out squeakier than he wants. Kenma either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care – probably the latter – nonchalantly flicking open the cap to the lube. An obscene amount squirts into the palm of his hand. He slathers the vibrator with it, a cheery pastel pink decorated with a Hello Kitty print, in a grotesque but arousing display that makes Tetsurou wish that was his dick in Kenma’s hands instead.

Kenma kneels over him and shoves the vibrator into Tetsurou’s mouth, bombarding his tongue with sickly sweet candy apple flavoring. As much as he’s not surprised Kenma would choose flavored lube, and an apple one at that, he gags and spits out as much of it as he can anyway. “Just like that, Hanako-chan,” Kenma breathes, voice thin. Mercifully enough he’s not pushing in as deep as he could, but he’s set a quick pace and it’s only getting faster, forcing Tetsurou to suck in mouthfuls of air whenever he can. He pushes his luck and curls a fist around Kenma, who jolts momentarily and bites back a hissing groan.

“Shit,” he hears Kenma mutter. Suddenly he’s backing away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. When Tetsurou pulls his hand back, he can’t help but be shocked by how slick his fingers are. For a moment he wonders if he touched Kenma the wrong way, but then Kenma is pressing him flat on his back, nudging his legs apart and scooping the lower half of his body into his lap. Tetsurou vaguely registers how cold the vibrator is in between his thighs for a moment, before he feels something press against his ass.

Tetsurou swallows hard when Kenma teases the tip of the vibrator outside of him, and his teeth rattle when Kenma slowly pushes in a short distance. It leaves as quickly as it enters, and the process repeats itself until he loses count, a dizzying game of cat and mouse. He doesn’t even bother to bite back the guttural snarl when Kenma works himself further in. He clenches one fist, nails biting against the soft skin of his palm, and palms himself against with the other to counteract the uncomfortable sensation. Evidently his own willpower succeeds and he lets his weight sag into Kenma’s lap, twitching his back and thighs in increasingly erratic arches.

When Kenma stops with the vibrator Tetsurou opens his mouth to protest but stops when he feels delicate fingers close in around his dick, watching the movement completely spellbound. His breaths come out in short, sharp puffs of air, and it isn’t long before his nerves radiate throughout his body, making his toes curl of their own accord. Tetsurou forces himself to break the trance and lift his head up when he hears a soft choking noise cut through the air; Kenma’s frame is a smooth arc, legs splayed and pawing at himself with his free hand, shivering. “Kenma,” he manages to spit out; Kenma jumps and meets his gaze with a look of such intense predatory ferocity that Tetsurou’s dick gives a tantalizing throb. Kenma licks his lips and breathes, “ _Kuro_ ,” and that’s it – it only takes two more strokes for Tetsurou to come, harder than he has in his entire life.

Kenma finishes soon after, a soft moan that Tetsurou hardly hears over the sound of his own ragged breathing. For a while they say nothing, although for Tetsurou, it’s because he has to regain the cognitive ability to form a coherent sentence.

When the ability _does_ come back, he realizes something horrifying. “Oh my god. You’ve been playing Mario music the entire time, haven’t you, Kenma.”

“You’re not very observant, are you, Hanako-chan,” is Kenma’s deadpan reply after a prolonged silence, as if Tetsurou’s realization is the most obvious thing in the world.

As Kenma gets up to clean himself off, Tetsurou swears he hears him chuckling.

\--

\--

A week after, Kenma receives an email from Kuro, saying only _If you’re game_ , and with a file attached. When he downloads the attachment – creatively named _The Legend of Zelda: Majora’s Ass_ – and is greeted with a title screen featuring the titular princess in an indecent position with an anthropomorphic moon, he smiles. He has a good mask he can use for that one, too.


End file.
